


Quality Time

by ABookAndACoffee



Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: Crude Humor, Everyone has cabin fever, F/M, Fluff, Hide and Seek, Humor, Isolation, Nesta is sick of it, Too much quality time, inspired by current events
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-23
Updated: 2020-03-23
Packaged: 2021-02-28 17:21:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23270884
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ABookAndACoffee/pseuds/ABookAndACoffee
Summary: Nesta is at her wit's end after a week of being snowed in at the House of Wind with everyone from the Inner Circle. When someone proposes a game of hide-and-seek, she sees it as her chance to get some quiet time.Elain’s first idea was to play games, to which Cassian had quickly suggested strip poker. A quick look from Nesta had him revising his suggestion to regular poker, but the damage had been done. Amren and Rhys jumped on the bandwagon and began tossing around suggestions, everything from competitive ax throwing (Amren) to karaoke (Rhys).And now, Nesta is even tired of the wordno. No, she doesn’t want to have a heart-to-heart around the fireplace, no, she doesn’t want to learn how to knit, no, she doesn’t want to summon spirits with a Ouija board. What she would prefer is to jump off the face of the mountain if it means she never has to listen to Mor and Amren debate the differences between Merlot and Cabernet Sauvignon and lamb’s blood again.
Relationships: Elain Archeron/Lucien Vanserra, Feyre Archeron/Rhysand, Nesta Archeron/Cassian
Comments: 2
Kudos: 67





	Quality Time

**Author's Note:**

> This is inspired by current events, and I hope that it brings you some laughs in a time when we are all super stressed and stuck at home!

“No.” 

Nesta says the word again, and will undoubtedly do so a dozen more times, because it seems that being snowed in with her entire family has proven only one thing. None of them know how to effectively avoid each other, even when there is no end of this hell in sight, even when it could have prevented what is now inevitable bloodshed.

The first few days that they had been snowed in at the House of Wind had been fine. Everyone had their own rooms, Cassian and Nesta, Feyre and Rhysand, Elain and Lucien, Amren, Mor, Azriel, and for some reason, Vassa. 

The first few days had passed in raucous jokes and good-hearted banter about how the family never spent time together anymore, Elain exclaiming that it was so nice that they all got to see one another now, and under the same roof!

By the end of the first week, Nesta was throwing death stares at anyone who dared wake her before the sun, or had sex so noisily she could hear it through the walls, or had the audacity to speak to her before she’d had her morning coffee. 

The House of Wind was palatial, beautiful, with more than enough space for its ten occupants, but Nesta would have gladly lit the match if it meant she never again had to hear the rest of them trying so hard to make a go of it.

It was Elain’s idea that they play games, and Cassian had quickly suggested strip poker. A quick look from Nesta had him revising his suggestion to regular poker, but the damage had been done. Amren and Rhys jumped on the bandwagon and began tossing around suggestions, everything from competitive ax throwing (Amren) to karaoke (Rhys). 

And now, Nesta is even tired of the word _no_. No, she doesn’t want to have a heart-to-heart around the fireplace, no, she doesn’t want to learn how to knit, no, she doesn’t want to summon spirits with a Ouija board. What she would prefer is to jump off the face of the mountain if it means she never has to listen to Mor and Amren debate the differences between Merlot and Cabernet Sauvignon and lamb’s blood again. 

“What about hide-and-seek,” Cassian asks, and Nesta can feel the word on her lips again until she pauses. Reconsiders. Thinks about the logistical benefits of such a game. No one has yet proposed an activity like this. One in which they all go their separate ways and try their damndest to never, ever see each other again. Oh, Nesta would very much like to win this game. 

“Yes,” Nesta says, her back straighter. 

Lucien coughs into his glass of wine and Elain hits him on the back. “Are you all right, dearest,” she asks concernedly, as if Lucien hasn’t just got the shock of his life from experiencing cooperation from his sister-in-law. Even Feyre and Mor exchange looks, and Nesta can see understanding pass between them. 

Feyre stands. “All right. That’s what we are going to do.”

“I’m on Lucien’s team,” Elain cries out. 

“This isn’t a team sport,” Cassian counters.

Elain merely smiles and slides her hand into Lucien’s lap, gripping his hand tightly in hers. 

Cassian shrugs. “Anyone else want to be on teams, then?”

Everyone is already clearly partnered up, and Nesta hears Vassa sigh quietly to herself. “Fuck me. Guess I’m alone then.”

Standing, Nesta smoothes her dress. Her strategy is to get as far away from everyone else as she can, and never return. Perhaps she can convince Cassian to bring her meals and explain to everyone just how seriously she takes hide-and-seek.

Everyone has stood and is quietly talking strategy with their teams when Rhys stops them. “Wait,” he says. “Who’s It?”

Vassa raises her hand. “I volunteer as tribute.”

“But you don’t know the house as well as the rest of us,” Mor protests. “Isn’t that a bit unfair?”

“Don’t worry about it,” Az says. “I have a feeling Vassa can take on the challenge.”

“I’ve spent enough time cooped up in places,” Vassa says, reassuring Mor. “I can certainly find every unexpected nook and cranny here.”

“Any other rules?” Rhys asks.

“No magic,” Lucien says. Elain, at his side, nods in agreement. “I’ve no intention of cuddling up next to someone who’s decided to go invisible.” He glances at Amren, then Nesta. “Or of being ‘accidentally’ turned into some sort of rodent.”

“It was one time,” Nesta protests. “And it was an accident.” She can’t help the grin that comes across her face and shrugs when Elain sticks her tongue out at her.

“All right then,” Cassian says. “No magic.” He turns to Vassa. “Cover your eyes. Maybe you could face the fireplace? And give us to fifty. This is a big house.”

Nesta rolls her eyes and grabs his hand. “Ready?”

Cassian nuzzles into her shoulder. “I’ve never known you so enthusiastic to play a game,” he says quietly. 

“Just find me the best place to hide, and I will make it very, very worth your effort.” She looks up at him and raises an eyebrow. Cassian nods at her, quick, and puts on what she calls his Strategy Face. 

“Fifty,” Vassa calls out, and suddenly it’s a mad dash out of the room. Elain is giggling at Lucien’s side as she leads him away, a dead giveaway for the direction they’ve gone. Nesta figures that they’ll likely lose first. Rhys and Feyre duck into a hallway that leads to a balcony - interesting strategy, Nesta thinks - and Mor, Az, and Amren bump into one another as they scramble to ensure they take separate paths. 

“Finally,” Nesta says, letting out a breath. “Let’s go.” She nods to the same path that Azriel took, one that leads to a labyrinth of guest rooms and offices. He has already disappeared amongst the shadows, though Nesta has a feeling she knows where he’ll end up. Cauldron help them if he becomes It.

Nesta ushers Cassian into a nondescript guest room and quietly closes the door behind them. She pauses for a moment while he checks the curtains, under the bed, and the armoire. Listening for any hint that they have been followed, Nesta waits. When she is satisfied that they have been neither followed nor found out, she strides to Cassian’s side and puts a hand on his arm. 

“Follow me.”

Cassian cocks his head but follows her to the wall next to the armoire. Nesta pushes aside a tapestry. These pieces of functional art usually keep the house warm, but now Nesta reveals another purpose; behind it, there is a small wooden door, out of keeping with the extravagance of the other decoration in the house.

“This was my room,” Nesta explains. “When Elain and I were first brought to Velaris.” She glances back at Cassian. “You don’t expect I would have sat around twiddling my thumbs all day, do you?”

“You never fail to impress,” Cassian replies, and crouches down to follow her through the dark doorway. 

Feeling her way through the dark, Cassian rest his hand on her back, making sure they still together in what is, for him, unfamiliar territory. When they reach a small room, Nesta reaches into Cassian’s pants pocket and pulls out a flint. 

“No magic, right?” She lights a small fire and sits on a bench that has been carved into the earth and rocks of the tunnel. 

“Huh.” Cassian puts his hands on his hips and circles, taking in the space now that they have the light. His wings nearly brush the ceiling and he gazes suspiciously at the continuation of the dark, damp passageway. “What else is down there?”

“It just goes to some of the other rooms,” Nesta answers. “I’m assuming it was created for assignations of a sordid type.”

“Or for assassins,” Cassian replies.

“Of course,” Nesta says. “There are always assassins.”

Cassian stops his examination and focuses his attention on Nesta, putting the pieces of her past and their present together. “So, what did you do in here?” he asks. 

“Plotted revenge,” she says without a hint of sarcasm. “Tried to figure out a way to help Elain. Mostly, I was trying to find a way out.”

“Out of Velaris?”

“Out of all of it.”

“Hm.” Cassian pauses. “And now? What are we doing here now?”

“Now,” she echoes, “I needed to come back here to regain my sanity because I swear on all that is holy, if I have to listen to Lucien flirting with Elain or watch Rhys make eyes at Feyre any longer, I am going to call on all the powers I have to throw those two off this cliff.”

“Those two?” Cassian asks. “Lucien and Rhys?”

“Well,” Nesta admits, “Feyre is on thin ice. But yes, Lucien and Rhys.”

Cassian whistles. “I would highly encourage you to reconsider that course of action. A High Lord, the son of one. Might be tricky to explain to the other High Lords. How about instead, I tell you some stories?”

“Stories?” Nesta raises an eyebrow skeptically. 

“I’ve read enough of the books you shove at me to know what kind you like.” Cassian makes a gesture for her to get comfortable. 

Tucking herself into Cassian’s side, Nesta sighs. “Fine. Tell me a story, convince me to put homicide off for one more day. But it had better be good.”

An hour passes, then another, Cassian speaking lowly and steadily so that Nesta thinks she might fall asleep in that dark, damp place on the hard bench. But with a sigh, she stands and shivers at the sudden coolness of her side where she had been against the warmth of Cassian. 

“I really have to pee.”

Cassian stretches. “Oh, thank the Cauldron. I was getting to the naughty bits which I’m sure it would have been very arousing for you, but I don’t fancy doing it in this cave.”

“I’m curious, what word would you have used to describe cocks?”

“Well, that’s the thing,” Cassian says as he follows Nesta back to her former bedroom, “I do prefer the word ‘cock’, but there is something honest about the word ‘dick’. If I were feeling particularly poetical I might say ‘quivering member’. Or perhaps ‘velvet-wrapped steel’. I cannot abide pet names, so there would be no Little Cassian. Besides, it’d be a misnomer.”

Nesta snorts. “And don’t I know it.”

They blink as they reenter the guest room. Though the evening is finally falling, it’s still much brighter than the passageway had been.

“Okay, where to?” 

“There’s a bathroom just down the hall.” Cassian gestures for Nesta to follow him. They pause at the bedroom door to listen before opening it and slipping out into the empty, eerily quiet hallway.

“You know, this was the best idea you’ve come up with in ages, babe.” 

Cassian reaches up and squeezes her shoulder in appreciation before pointing to a doorway. “There.”

Nesta opens the door to what she thinks is a bathroom and yells “Oh for the love of the gods!” as she quickly shuts it again. Cassian can hear the sound of Rhys laughing behind the door as Feyre pulls it open again, frantically shoving the straps of her dress back up her shoulders.

“Nesta,” she says, nostrils flaring. “This is our hiding spot, find your own.”

“I wasn’t looking for _you_ ,” Nesta snaps. “I was looking for a restroom that isn’t currently occupied by my horny little sister!” 

“We’re trying for a baby,” Rhys calls from behind Feyre in a shouted whisper. 

“Rhys!” Feyre exclaims over her back. Turning back to Nesta and Cassian, she says, “Well, he’s not wrong.”

“Congratulations!” Cassian yells over Feyre in that strangled whisper they have all adopted. 

A thumbs-up comes out of the dark from behind Feyre, before Rhys pulls his hand back into the darkness of the room.

“Go!” Feyre shoos Nesta and Cassian away. “Let us get on with it.” Feyre glances behind them, down the hallway. “Do you know how the others are doing?”

“No, we’ve been on lockdown,” Cassian answers. 

“Right. Well, bye.” Feyre closes the door. 

Nesta makes a strangled sound of frustration. “If I piss myself because of Feyre, she’s never going to hear the end of it.”

“The next door down is another restroom. It’s fine.”

Nesta takes one step forward, then another, nearly forgetting that they are supposed to be covert. She feels a gentle touch between her shoulder blades. Frowning at Cassian by her side, she looks back.

“Tag,” Vassa grins. “You’re it.”

**Author's Note:**

> I had an idea for a follow-up that focuses on Elain and Lucien trying to keep everyone fed. Lemme know if you're interested!


End file.
